


Surprise!

by Blackdresses13



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII Remake (Video Game 2020)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Drabble, Fluff, Shenanigans
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-22
Updated: 2020-09-22
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:28:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26602993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blackdresses13/pseuds/Blackdresses13
Summary: You just got home from work, and Roche has a...surprise?
Relationships: Roche/Reader
Comments: 2
Kudos: 7





	Surprise!

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this for a friend on twitter!

“Hey, I’m home!” You call out as you close the front door behind you, leaning against it in a slouch after you flip the lock. “Roche?”

You hear something fall down in the general vicinity of the kitchen, followed by a soft, fluttering, “Shit!”

Your eyebrows tense, but your smile widens. “Honey?” You start to make your way through the house, dropping your keys and book bag on the entryway side table.

You pause right before you turn into the kitchen. You can hear him breathing softly, and you know that he can hear you, too.

You step into the doorway and— 

FWOOSH!

There’s flour all over your face.

“Hi,” you say, holding back a laugh. “What are you doing—“

FWOOSH!

There’s flour on your work pants.

“I wanted to surprise you,” Roche says with a smile, his long, dirty blond hair pulled up into a bun on the top of his head.

You scoff, now, and when you smile little specks of flour drift off your face. “Surprise me with what, exactly?”

“Well...” he says, gesturing to the counter space behind him. It’s covered in cooking supplies and virtually every utensil, bowl, and measuring cup the two of you own. Coating everything is a light dusting of flour, including a large mass of it on the counter directly beneath the cabinet for dry goods.

You take a step into the kitchen, watching as Roche sticks his hand back into the bag of flour cradled in his opposite arm. He knows it’s your move. Your [e/c] eyes scan across the counters, looking for a weapon.

“Clock’s ticking, [y/n],” Roche says, honey basically oozing from his lips. “Only have so much time to think in battle before instinct takes over.”

You spy a large fluid measuring cup that is half full of a clear liquid, probably water. It happens to be right behind your husband.

“Babe-“ but you cut him off, rushing forward and colliding with him, the bag of flour bursting and coating the both of you in white powder.

You don’t stop moving, though. You fly passed him and grab the handle on the measuring cup and—

SPLASH!

—drench Roche’s face and upper torso with...vinegar?

...

What?

But he just _laughs,_ reaches onto the counter next to him for a yellow box,rips the top off of the baking soda and throws it straight at your chest.

You can see the chemical reaction beginning on his hands, the foamy bubbling from a vinegar-baking soda combination.

And then he body slams you and pushes you back against the fridge.

Now every part of your face and torso are tingling, as is every part of Roche. He laughs as he kisses you, and you can taste the bitter vinegar, dry flour, and tingling baking soda.

“You’re home,” he says, smirking as his lips press firmly into yours.


End file.
